Apologies and Love
by This-Account-Is-Inactiveee
Summary: Post Reichenbach Reunion Fic: Because we all need a bit of fluff in our lives.
1. Decision Made

It's weird, isn't it? Being in love. That feeling when you see someone and everything is exaggerated. Seeing every single part of them, loving their quirks and feeling like you would do anything for them. Being with them makes you feel physically lighter, floating through life _together. _Even if they don't feel the same as you do, you just can't help but smile.

John Watson felt like this once. Once upon a time when he was with the one named Sherlock. John sat in 221b Baker Street staring blankly at the wall. It had been three years since Sherlock had vanished from existence, three years since the funeral and the visible grief. To everyone outside John looked healthy. Happy. John knew that he wasn't. He would occasionally pick up a shift at the surgery but Sherlock's will left nearly everything to him, meaning that he didn't really have to work, but did it to break the monotony. When not at work or out to maintain the pretence, John sat. He did nothing but just sit and think. When it got late, he would slowly get up and go to Sherlock's room and without moving anything unnecessarily, slip into his bed, hoping that Sherlock would turn up miraculously, even if it was just to berate him for being so quintessentially human….

Life just seemed so boring and dull without the eccentricities of Sherlock, even though his life was peaceful now John wanted the excitement back! John wanted everything about Sherlock back. His patronisations, his scarf, his violin playing, his ranting, _everything. _John felt like a part of his life had disappeared, been brutally torn out and stomped on. John felt so heavy. Most people expected him to be back to normal within a few months but how does one move on with their life when their reason for living dies? Why get up in the morning, just to see the empty silence hanging about in the flat? Mornings are the hardest John thought. Sleepily after dreaming of Sherlock the lines between dreaming and reality were the most blurred, John still makes two cups of coffee, even now he cries.

He sometimes sends him texts. Often about his feelings, sometimes just the words "I love and miss you. –JW" He still hopes Sherlock can read them, even when the error message comes back through. John feels so alone; no-one understands him sometimes. Lestrade and Molly have their own happy lives now; John can't intrude with his dreary obsession over the past. Mrs Hudson is gone, died of a heart attack about a year ago. John slowly looks around the flat, feeling the silence as if it was tangible, pressing down on him.

John hasn't spoken to Mycroft since.

John was sitting as usual, slowly letting the tears fall on one ordinary Sunday afternoon when he finally decided. He had been letting the slow ebb of the TV lull him back into unrestful sleep when he saw it.  
>"It has been three years since the suicide of the fake Reichenbach genius, Sherlock Holmes. In a special report we shall see….."<br>John zoned out as soon as he heard the name. He was fed up with the reminders, tired of the petty sympathies of acquaintances that were blissfully ignorant of John's true pain, exhausted with the pain of living. Of course, he was already prepared. He had written the note months ago, waiting for that thing, the thing that would tip him over the edge. This slander of Sherlock's name so long after was that thing, the catalyst. John slowly moved to the kitchen cabinet, opened one of the drawers and pulled out the two things he would need. The note and the gun.

John breathed in and out deeply, not to calm himself but to attempt to enjoy the inherent feeling of _breathing. _John was steady and resolute as he sat down in his chair, almost excited to finally be back with Sherlock. John took off the safety, pressed the gun into his right temple, still filling his lungs with precious air, and started to think of Sherlock. Their first case, the fights, the laughs, those blooming cheekbones, shooting the wall, forgetting the milk and of course, those deep blue eyes. John closed his eyes and breathed "I believed in you" into the darkness.

Silence.


	2. Reappearances

**AN: Hello Everyone :D Jess here, just thought I'd say thanks for the support, the emails are flooding in :D I'd like to thank AllTheSherlockFeels for a bit of inspiration for this chapter, hope you enjoy it :D**

John opened his eyes.

His first thought was that Heaven looked a lot like the ceiling of his living room. John's second thought was confusion, confusion at why he wasn't dead, confusion at the shadowy figure that was kneeling above him. A gaunt worried face stared back at the doctor who was lying on the floor, gun still in one hand, note in the other. John blinked furiously, as if to make sense of everything that was happening. Heaven didn't look like 221b, he thought. 

"John? Can you hear me? John?"

John looked towards the voice, towards the man who it belonged to. The man was tall with short hair and a beard. He seemed to be wearing some kind of sports jumper; John couldn't make it out in the darkness  
>"Who are you?" John questioned angrily, this stranger, whoever he was, had broken into his apartment and interrupted him.<br>"John…." The man stood up and turned on the lights.  
>John looked at him again. In the light he could make out more detail. The man had a bushy, unkempt ginger beard, short black hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in years. He seemed frail but energetic, a certain worried vigour about him. John looked closely at the face, taking in the stern nose, the high forehead, the sharp cheekbones…. the eyes. Those two pools of blue and grey that had such depth, a shining intelligence in them, a glimmer of… no… it couldn't be.<br>"Sherlock…?"

The Not-So-Dead Sherlock looked back at John who was still lying on the floor.  
>"Yes John?"<br>John stutters and fails to comprehend what he's woken up into. He shakily gets up, using his stick, not taking his eyes off of Sherlock.  
>"Bu…. You're dead. I saw you fall from the roof of St Bart's three years ago…. I took your pulse as you di…." John chokes up on the last word, never taking his gaze away from Sherlock.<br>"I had to protect you John, you would have died if I hadn't disappeared."  
>John flared up. "Oh so leaving me alone for the last three years wasn't just as bad? Sherlock, my life crumbled without you. My heart died with you on that sidewalk… You just walk back in and think you can fix all that? Well you can't Sherlock; you can't take that kind of hurt away." Sherlock could see the anger burning behind his words yet it was the sadness in which he said them that really shattered his already broken heart.<p>

John limped straight past Sherlock and down the stairs. Sherlock heard the door slam behind him as John ventured out into the night. Sherlock sat back in his chair, noting how similar the apartment still looked. Sherlock saw on the floor in front of him was a small rectangle of paper, picking it up he realised what it actually was. Sherlock hesitantly looked back at the door then slowly unfolded the suicide note of John Hamish Watson.


	3. The Note

Although he had just stopped John from actually doing it, seeing the note physically in his hand was a shock to Sherlock. With a shaking hand, Sherlock opened up the hand written note, noticing the shaky lines and the obligatory tear splotches on the paper which told Sherlock nearly as much about the contents as the actual words did. Slowly feeling the tears prickle in his own eyes, Sherlock began to read.

_To whom it may concern._

_It should come as no surprise to you that the last few months and years have been a struggle. On the outside, Sherlock and I were mere friends, confidantes, colleagues. Yet if you took a step into our world you would have seen that it was oh so much more than the face value of our work. Sherlock was my world. I couldn't imagine a day without him. Until I had to. My meek excuse for an existence must soon come to an end. As the net draws further in on the accusation that Sherlock Holmes was a fake, I must remind you of the effect he had on everyone he met. Especially me... I loved him. I always have and I always will, life without him is no life at all._

_So in true dramatic fashion, I eradicate myself from this planet also. He was my friend and I'll always believe in him… but he was also my soul mate and I'll never leave him._

_Forever Sherlock's_

_-JW._

Sherlock did not surprise himself when he realised he was sobbing. More than mere tears, almost full blown cries of anguish rocked through the young man's body as he saw in black and white what he had done to John. He had broken him. John's poor limping heart was shattered too, never to be fully fixed, always with the destructive holes of doubt and pain remaining. Sherlock pulled his knees up into his chest, trying to stop the waves of remorse and hurt crashing out of him, an ocean of unsaid words and hidden feelings erupting out of the detective in 221b.

John arrived back in the apartment after a few hours of storming around London, hunting down clues as to who had known what, why hadn't they told him, where was he, all the questions that flew into John's brain. Unsurprisingly, Mycroft knew. The elder Holmes seemed shocked to see him, the shock instantly turning into surprise and pain as the ex soldier punched him full pelt in the nose. Whatever John had expected to find when he returned to Baker Street, he didn't find. Instead he walked into the living room and found Sherlock in one of his jumpers crying over a crisp white note in his hand.  
>"Sherlock?"<br>The detective's head snapped up at the mention of his name. He saw John standing rigid in the door frame and looked slightly embarrassed, crossing his arms to try and hide the jumper and the note in one foul swoop. Sherlock breathed in deeply, repressing the emotions that yearned to burst from him, holding in the urge to hold John and tell him just how he felt.  
>"John…. I…. feel as if I did you some wrong. I feel great remorse at my actions, no matter how well intentioned, I should not have left you alone like that. Please accept my sincere apology." <p>

Sherlock Holmes was a coward.


	4. Declarations

**AN: Jess again! So far I've been really good with updating, attempting to do at least one chapter a night. However, *intake of breath* it might become a little bit more sporadic next week, least because I 1) Have a new job 2) have 2 weeks of A-Level revision. Yay? I think. New chapters will be done at least every other day though x**

John and Sherlock sat facing each other, neither meeting the other's gaze. John felt strangely empty, which confused him. After all, this is what he wanted wasn't it? He stared at the detective opposite, the red rims around his eyes proving that he had been crying, the steely face merely a front to protect his pride. All anger had disappeared as soon as he saw Sherlock, looking nearly as broken as he was on the pavement.  
>"So. You read the note." John focused all his energy into not letting any emotion into his words, desperate as he was to embrace the long lost Sherlock, as much as he wanted to forgive him, too scared of rejection.<br>"Yes, I did. An interesting read, slightly heavy on the adjectives and possessive pronouns but aside from that not that bad." Sherlock replied loftily, staring back at John. The detective watched John's face fall slightly before regaining his composure but the doctor couldn't hide the sadness and pain in his eyes, only able to catch the tears after they had fallen.

John felt like his heart was about to burst or break or whatever hearts did when their entire world had just come back from the dead, only to kick their owner's feelings back in their face. Seeing Sherlock's hard face, unable to see whether it was a façade, was almost too much to bear. Now knowing that Sherlock knew how he felt, knowing the rejection that was about to come, John honestly couldn't face it.

"Sherlock, I wrote the note when I-"  
>Sherlock silenced him with a finger in the air.<br>"John. It's okay. I… feel the same." 

Time often stops when moments like this happen. The whole world takes a moment to stop and stare whenever something so shocking and unexpected happens. This was exactly that moment. After what seemed like eternity, a very startled John spoke.  
>"What?" He replied, surprisingly eloquently for someone who felt that his heart was now about to leap out of his chest and do a merry jig in the living room.<br>"I find myself feeling for you more than one would deem normal for a flatmate. I don't just wish you happiness, I wish you _perfection._ I want to be there when you wake up in the morning, I want to be there when you go to sleep, I want to be the one to grow old with you, I want to be with you… I love you John…. I fear that my actions may have cauterised any feelings you may have once had for me however. _"_

During his tirade, Sherlock stood up and began nervously wringing the ends of John's jumper in his hands, flitting about, worried at John's reaction to his sentiments.  
>"Sherlock….. "John stared at his feet as if the worn boots would provide him with the answers.<br>"I was so angry at you. You left me alone to struggle and barely live. You nearly convinced me that you were a fraud and you took all of me that was human along with you." Sherlock turned away from John, terrified to hear the rest of the crushing blow that was destroying every fibre of his being.  
>John continued, "And yet… I still love you."<p>

Sherlock paused. "Say that again."  
>"I still love you." John replied with a slight smile.<br>Sherlock walked briskly over to John and quickly yet tenderly kissed the startled doctor straight on the lips.


	5. Interruptions

**AN: Hello! New chapter, as promised!**

**Just thought I'd say another thank you, everyone who has reviewed and subscribed I love you. :D I woke up this morning to find 20 emails about this fic, it made me so happy. :D **

**Lots of love to you all,**

**Jess x**

**PS: If you haven't done so already, please review, it makes me really happy. (Which I need, I just re read Alone on the water.)**

Time seemed to be in the nasty habit of stopping recently, John thought. He found himself kissing the much taller detective back, having to stand on tip toe just to return his true affections, clawing back the mask of stoicism and hurt to reveal the real feelings once more. After what seemed like an eternity John pulled back.

They stood in the living room; letting the world restart around them, both grateful for the form they held in their arms. John let his head fall onto Sherlock's chest to which Sherlock stroked John's grey splattered hair, albeit awkwardly. 

"Does this mean you forgive me?" Sherlock broke the silence half jokingly but with a serious undertone, a small line of worry beginning to embed itself in the detective's forehead.  
>John stared. "I was so alone Sherlock…. All I asked was for you to not be dead." John pulled Sherlock tighter. "I got what I wanted. I don't care about anything else now."<br>Sherlock kissed John on the forehead and pulled him towards the sofa.

Sherlock and John remained entwined for hours, not needing to say or do anything, being content with just being in each other's company until both men fell asleep, both their heads resting together, Sherlock's icy long fingers intertwined with the calloused warm digits of the doctor. 

The next morning, not even the steady tap of an umbrella on the staircase and two sets of feet woke the two slumbering gentlemen, until the two men and umbrella had entered the flat.  
>"Sherlock?" Lestrade's cry could be heard throughout London with the sheer loudness and pitch, the surprise apparent in his voice. Sherlock and John groggily awoke to see the two intruders in their living room, one of whom had strode over to the detective and began to hug him repeatedly.<br>"Sherlock! You're alive!"  
>Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Yes I am Lestrade, brilliant deduction, I see why the Met pay you so much."<br>Lestrade began to protest until the other intruder interrupted.  
>"Sherlock, be nice to my Greggie. He's just happy to have you back" Mycroft glanced towards John who was now glaring at the elder Holmes. "We all are."<p>

Sherlock scoffed. "Greggie? Please Mycroft, since when are you a fan of sentimentality? By the way," He turned to John with a smile. "Nice handiwork on my brother's nose."  
>Mycroft glowered. "Yes well, one must congratulate the good doctor on what would have been a brilliant punch, lest it be aimed at me." <p>

John just continued to glare.

"Would someone_ please _explain to me why John punched my partner in the nose and is now glaring at him? Also, HOW IS SHERLOCK ALIVE?" Lestrade took command of the situation causing all three men to stare at him confusingly.   
>John hissed. "Your lover boy decided not to tell me that Sherlock was in fact alive, instead leaving me to waste away for three years and nearly commit suicide! Maybe that is a reasonable excuse for clouting Mycroft."<br>Lestrade stood dumbfounded. "You knew?" His question came out as more of an accusation, an accusation of blame, the finger pointed directly at Mycroft.  
>"I did what I had to do. It was for the good of the country. We destroyed Moriarty but not the web. That's why it took three years. I didn't trust your acting skills John, that's why I didn't tell you. I am sorry." Mycroft stood firm beside Lestrade, as far away from John as possible. <p>

That day would always be remembered as the day when Mycroft was given a black eye. 


	6. Explanations

**AN: Hello!**

**Firstly, I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, some of your reviews have made my day, waking up to find a lovely email on my phone does make getting up for work easier… I also discovered how to determine traffic on each of these stories…. Wow. From the 42 different countries that are reading this, I love you all. Shout out to all of you from Slovenia. :D**

**Here is a chapter which I am dedicating to a few people, including Aeroape, thetouchwiththeunderwear, loreleiiakagalaxygirl and finally j0hnl0veshisdaddy, all who are lovely people who have been reviewing and RP'ing and lots of lovely things.**

**Finally, I have a bit planned for nearer the end which you will all love. :D**

**Thanks again, Jess x**

Between chuckles of laughter from Sherlock and pitiful groans of pain from the elder Holmes, Mycroft was suitably tended to by his adoring yet slightly miffed 'Greggie' who gingerly held an ice pack on his face. His eye began to darken where John had delivered what could only be called an impressive punch. John had calmed down slightly and sat beside Sherlock on the sofa who was sipping tea with a grin on his face.  
>"Oh I do love how interesting my family is… Nearly as interesting as Mycroft's face will be if he doesn't stop making John punch him…"<p>

Lestrade began to protest but he was quickly silenced by a hand on his shoulder and a look from his partner.  
>"Admittedly, I deserved both punches. That doesn't mean that I want repeats however. "Mycroft sat up straighter and took the ice pack himself. He addressed John.<br>"Dr Watson, I do feel remorse at how you suffered and I regret that. However, Sherlock and I had to unravel Moriarty's web, otherwise he would have tried to kill you again."  
>John looked confused. "Again? Wait, when was the last time?" he questioned, a slight anger rising once again in his voice.<br>Mycroft stared at his brother incredulously. "You haven't told him?"  
>Sherlock stared back and hissed through gritted teeth. "I was getting around to it, Mycroft." He practically spat out the last word as John stared at him expectantly, waiting for the answer that had eluded him the past three years.<p>

Exasperated, Sherlock explained. "Moriarty was ready to kill you. He told me that if I didn't jump then you would die. He had snipers positioned around London. I couldn't risk losing you. I made plans with Molly prior to meeting Moriarty at St Bart's, knowing that I could die. We planned the whole thing. Moriarty was fooled and dead but his web was still there. I couldn't risk your safety John."  
>Throughout his monologue, Sherlock kept his eyes focused on John, noting every twitch, every facial change, trying to figure out how he felt.<br>Eventually he spoke.  
>"You did this… for me? You did all of this, hiding for three years, getting beaten up by the look of you, all the secrecy and pain, all for me?"<br>Sherlock let out a curt nod.

"Sherlock…" John whispered. "I love you. Even more so now I see what you did for me. All the pain, all the hurt, that's in the past now. I love you."  
>Sherlock smiled and held John's hand. "See Mycroft, Just because we know caring is not an advantage doesn't mean we can help doing so." <p>

Lestrade still looked confused. "So, is this you officially back from the dead then?"  
>Sherlock laughed. "It would seem so… On that note, may I borrow your phone?"<br>Lestrade handed over his phone to the joyous detective who seemed to be enjoying this far too much. "Wha-"  
>He was cut off by Sherlock who was calling someone with a huge grin on his face.<p>

"Anderson! Guess who's back!"


	7. Future Announcements

**AN: Salutations!**

**Everyone has been so lovely about this fic recently, it makes me happy. Much love to you all, this week especially to The Time Lord's Consultant and Aeroape who have been uber nice therefore gets another mention!**

**Those of you who have tumblr, you can drop in prompts for this in my ask (.com/ask) or just general love/hate :D **

**I love you all very much and Happy Easter!**

**Jess x**

The next few weeks fell as a blur whilst Sherlock revealed his existence to the rest of the world, both him and John resuming their websites. John made a triumphant blog post about how alive Sherlock actually was, enjoying the comments and joyous celebration from their fans. The 'Believe in Sherlock' graffiti was sprayed across London once more, deerstalker sales rising. Returning to cases was Sherlock's second highlight (after discovering that his love for his flatmate was requited, that featured pretty highly in Sherlock's book, it even had its own room in the mind palace.)

He and John walked into Scotland Yard, giving Donovan and Anderson a curt glare as they walked past their office. Striding into Lestrade's office was not as satisfying as Sherlock had hoped as he managed to walk in on Mycroft and 'Greggie' idly staring into each other's eyes.  
>"Oh get a room you two." Sherlock pouted. "This is meant to be my day…"<br>Lestrade and Mycroft glared at the detective then smiled as his blogger walked in and cooed.  
>"Oh Sherlock, be nice love." John half heartedly chastised.<br>"Love?" Donovan had taken this time to walk into Lestrade's office. "Don't tell me that freak here actually got himself a boyfriend?"  
>Sherlock looked as if he was going to answer her wittily and scathingly so John did the next best thing. He walked up to Sherlock, stood up on tip-toe and kissed Sherlock lightly on the lips.<br>"That he has Sally, that he has." With that, John triumphantly walked out of the office, leaving four shocked faces in his wake.

Later that week, John and his Sherlock were sitting in the flat; both snuggled up on the sofa together watching a film when John posed a few questions.  
>"Sherlock?" He asked, resting his head on the detective's shoulder.<br>"Hm? Yes John?" Sherlock smiled down at his … Well there wasn't really a fitting title in Sherlock's eyes for John. 'Boyfriend' just reeked of teenage girls, 'Lover' insinuated things that hadn't even been breached. In his mind palace, John was just 'John.' His John.  
>The doctor, unaware of Sherlock's inner commentary, pondered a thought aloud. "Do you think we should go on an actual *date*?"<br>Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "A date? As in restaurants and musicals?"  
>John smiled. "Well, that is what is usually defined as a date."<br>Sherlock looked puzzled for a moment then smiled. "Yes. Tomorrow."  
>John looked confused but laughed. "Why all the rush?"<br>Sherlock smiled a very coy smile. "Well If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret, would it?"  
>With that, Sherlock bounded out the room with a new found nervous energy as John watched confusedly, shrugged then settled back down to watch the end of <em>Love Actually.<em>

Mycroft was used to getting calls at 11pm about his brother, usually from Greggie (which normally turned from calls about Sherlock to calls about how much they loved each other.) However, a call at 11pm _from _his brother was a terrifying one. His phone rang and Mycroft warily picked it up, as if the receiver was going to turn into a snake at his touch.  
>"Hello brother-mine. To what do I owe the honour?" Mycroft employed his usual icy tone, a call from Sherlock usually meant that he wanted something.<br>"Hello Myc! I need a favour."  
>"As I suspected Sherlock. What is it this time? You're not allowed my ID again."<br>Sherlock laughed down the phone. "No, this time my intentions are more personal than identifying stolen rabbits."  
>Mycroft leant forward in his chair, realised he was the living embodiment of a cliché and then leant back. "Sherlock, what do you need?"<br>"Restaurant reservations, the use of one of your cars for a night, privacy from you and your watchful cameras and lots of candles." Sherlock listed impatiently but with a certain joy in his speech.  
>Mycroft honestly couldn't figure out what was happening. "May I ask why?"<br>Sherlock answered. "Simple brother dear, There's going to be a happy announcement at the end of the week!" 


	8. Preparations

**AN: Hola!**

**Firstly, my apologies for the lateness of this update (though it still is technically on the correct day, just very close to it) because I have been very busy celebrating my lovely sister Joey's 18****th**** Birthday :D Yay for Joey!**

**Secondly, a massive thank you to everyone who has been RPing and generally just being O so lovely, to those of you who have been wonderful especially I dedicate this chapter to you. This chapter especially goes out to 'littlevampires' on tumblr. :D**

**Thirdly, I've never understood why writers do cliff hangers.** **Until today.**

**Love as Always and Happy Easter,**

**Jess x**

The next morning, Sherlock was hurriedly dashing around. This was not that unusual in John's eyes so instead of wondering what exactly the detective was doing, he sat down and enjoyed his breakfast. Sherlock seemed filled with some form of nervous energy (more so than usual) and was disappearing in and out of the flat. John laughed at the third time Sherlock ran in and out of the flat, still clueless as to what was happening.

As he washed up the remains of his breakfast (with Sherlock nowhere to be found) John heard his phone ring in the other room.  
>"Hello" he answered, smirking as he saw Sherlock run down Baker Street.<br>"Hey John, it's Greg. Fancy coming down here and watching the rugby with me? Mycee has gone off somewhere and left me." John could actually hear Lestrade's pout.  
>"Yeah sure, Sherlock's acting all hyper today for some reason, maybe he senses a new serial killer or something" John laughed. "I'll be over in a few."<br>John hopped downstairs and got into a cab on the way to Greg and "Mycee's" abode that in no way could be called humble, (it _was_ Mycroft's after all.) He had long given up on wondering what Sherlock was doing and decided to focus his attention on the fact that later that night, he was actually going on a date with Sherlock. An actual _date. _He simply couldn't comprehend that the man he had mourned, the man who he loved, the man who had died, was back. Back to love him. It defied all expectation and it still made John's fixed heart sing to think of how Sherlock actually loved him back. "Wow." He whispered in the cab to himself.

Sherlock grinned as he got the text message from Mycroft. "John has officially left the building. -MH" Still smiling, he tapped out a reply. "Brilliant. Keep him away from Baker Street and the Morgue and we'll be okay. –SH" If you had been in St James' park that day you would have heard a very audible sigh from the elder Holmes brother who once again considered institutionalising his brother.  
>"Why the Morgue? Not exactly a romantic setting. –MH"<br>Sherlock decided to ignore this text and merrily hopped into the Morgue.  
>Molly bustled out as Sherlock bounded in, both colliding and knocking the petite pathologist onto the floor.<br>"Sorry Molly." Sherlock said quite sheepishly, helping her up and graciously ignoring the mild blush accentuating her cheeks. "Did Mycroft get in touch?"  
>Molly continued to blush. "Um well yes but I don't know why, he um just told me to leave for the night."<br>Sherlock nodded. "He's quite right. Goodnight Molly!"  
>Without another word, Sherlock ushered her out of the lab and began preparations for tonight's date.<p>

John still found himself struggling with the nickname change of Lestrade to Greg, even a year later. John was finding it slightly hard to call Inspector Lestrade 'Greg,' even though they had been on first name terms for years now. It might be the fact that Gregory Holmes seemed to carry even more of a respected dignity with the addition of his new last name, the very suffix sent shivers down the spine of many people, including John. The Holmes-Lestrade wedding of last year was one of the very few happy moments that John had remembered, seeing Lestrade (Greg, he corrected himself) so happy made him happy yet slightly envious, he had got his Holmes brother, John wanted his. The ceremony itself was brief and only slightly overly sentimental, the reception utterly hilarious. Greg and Mycroft both let down their hair (what was left of it) and showed their utter joy through terrible dancing and cake shoving, the slight aroma of alcohol in the air prompting them to finally share their pet names with the whole west side of London.

John had been watching the rugby with Greg for a few hours when his phone buzzed, alerting him to a new message. He smiled as he opened up his phone seeing the text from Sherlock.  
>"Be ready to be picked up in an hour, Lestrade has got you spare clothes. –SH"<br>John smiled again as he saw Greg miraculously pull out a smart-ish shirt and trousers, evidently from his own wardrobe. Greg saw John's facial expression.  
>"What can I say, it was a drugs bust?" he laughed and handed John the clothes.<br>"May I ask what this is all in aid of?" John questioned without much hope.  
>"You're going on a date with Sherlock Holmes. Anything could happen…"<br>John nodded and made his way into the shower, got dressed and nervously sat by the door, all the time wondering what was going to happen tonight.

Anything really could happen, just not in the way John expected…


	9. The Date

**AN: Hey,**

**I've been really bad with the updates recently so I decided to do you guys a lovely long one which I hope you'll enjoy, reviews and everything are lovely (even if they are to tell me what I've done wrong) and I hope you're all having a good easter! **

**Love,  
>Jess x<strong>

Sherlock was quite possibly nervous for the first time in his life. Hours of meticulous planning had finally come to fruition as he pulled up outside the Holmes' abode in a lush borrowed car. John was out the door within moments, sliding into the back seat with Sherlock, taking his hand.  
>"Hello love" John smiled at him, slightly apprehensive of what this evening may entail, Greg seemed slightly <em>too<em> happy early this evening. Now seven had rolled around and John was finally on the date.  
>"So, where to first?" John asked.<br>Sherlock smirked. "It's a surprise love…." Sherlock smiled, watching John try and figure out what was happening.

The car dashed through the streets of London, parking just outside Angelo's. Throughout the journey John had stared out the window happily, only briefly commentating or asking questions regarding their date, now it seemed perfectly sensible to go to Angelo's. John grinned, remembering the first time the two of them had eaten there, remembering his stubborn assertion that he wasn't Sherlock's date.  
>"Is it time to make amends for a mistake here Sherlock?" John pondered<br>Sherlock laughed, "I'm impressed you remembered."  
>John smiled. "Of course I remembered it silly..." He lightly punched his date on the arm. "I'm impressed that you did though…. Wouldn't have thought it important enough to escape 'deletion'" he smirked. Sherlock only smiled as they walked into the restaurant hand in hand, astonishing Angelo. They sat down at their usual table as Angelo placed several candles on the table with a quizzical look.<br>"Yes, I am his date. Finally." John smiled.

Both John and Sherlock ate, indulging in the fine food and wine, enjoying each other's company and going back over old cases, old tales and the highlights of the last four and a half years.  
>"Remember the time you went on the tube with your harpoon covered in blood?"<br>"Remember that time you found a head in the fridge?"  
>"Remember that time you <em>put<em> a head in the fridge?"  
>"Well it wasn't me who shot a cabbie."<br>"Did we ever find out Lestrade's division?"  
>"Remember how Molly used to fancy you?"<br>"Remember how Sarah used to fancy you?"  
>"Remember when you took me hostage?"<p>

Soon the conversation went slightly deeper as they finished dessert. John pushed his plate away and nonchalantly pondered aloud.  
>"Remember the time when I got kidnapped by Moriarty in the swimming pool?"<br>Sherlock half smiled. "How could I forget… You covered in bombs…"  
>John laughed, "You, stripping me off in a darkened swimming pool… No wonder people talked."<br>"You, jumping onto Moriarty in an effort to save me." Sherlock stared intently at his date as he spoke. "I guess I never thanked you for that."  
>John smiled. "You don't need to… I love you Sherlock."<br>"I love you too John." Sherlock smirked.

Eventually they left the restaurant, waving goodbye to a very happy Angelo who was telling anyone who would listen "I told you so."  
>The two men got back into the car, Sherlock pulling on John's hand, cuddling him in the back of the car. They sped through London once more, Sherlock beaming. He still grinned as the car began to slow down and John's face fell into an expression of puzzlement.<br>"Sherlock… Why are we here?" John was incredibly confused as the two of them got out of the car and walked up towards St Bart's hospital hand in hand. Sherlock simply winked and started to lead John down into the morgue.  
>"The morgue? Seriously? Sherlock, as much as I do indeed love you, I don't think a morgue is exactly romantic." John was baffled as Sherlock opened the door in front of him and pulled him gently into the lab section.<p>

Earlier that day, the morgue had contained several dead bodies and was quite possibly the least romantic place in the entirety of London. By the night, it had been transformed using candles, flowers and other romantic regalia, creating something that even by Mycroft's high standards was beautiful.  
>"Sherlock…" John breathed, seeing the morgue lab in all its beauty. "Did you really do all this?"<br>Sherlock smiled. "I had a little help…. Do you know why we are here John? Why that for the scene of our first date, we are in a morgue laboratory?" John shook his head, watching Sherlock walk around the lab.  
>"This is where we first met. You limped in here and you limped straight into my life, if you pardon the cliché." He paused, taking in John's reaction. "We've spent a lot of time together here in this hospital, either with my many injuries or you occasionally working, or just spending time with each other on cases, every moment spent together special and treasured in my heart. No moment that I have had with you has ever been deleted. Ever. Even when we sat for hours on end in silence, I couldn't bare deleting those memories. They were what kept me sane, kept me fighting when I thought I might have lost you."<p>

John remained speechless.

Sherlock continued. "I know it seems horribly clichéd but I really can't imagine life without you now John. You're a part of me. You balance me out John, without you I can't function. I love you, so much. Until the end of my days I will love each and every part of you, unreservedly and forever. Sherlock paused, seeing John beaming back at him, he continued.  
>"I love your eyes. I love your voice, I love the way you cheer me up in the morning, I love how you can't use a self check out! I love how you've always been there to pick up the pieces and how you love me unconditionally, even no one else did. You fixed me."<p>

Sherlock walked straight up to John and stood in front of him. "So these are just a few of the reasons why I want to ask you this." Keeping his eyes locked with John's he slowly got down on one knee.

"John Hamish Watson, will you marry me?"


	10. Tickles!

**AN: Heidy Hi Hi**

**Sorry that this one is late (again!) I do apologise and I hope that this might make up for it. :D**

**Love Yous All!**

**Jess x**

John felt everything freeze. He saw Sherlock glide gracefully down on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. He felt his heart skip many many beats, trying to make sense of what was happening in front of him, seeing the candles and the effort gone into making this night perfect. It had been. John looked down into Sherlock's icy pools for eyes and saw a real future inside them. He saw adopting children, he saw a small cottage in suburbia, and he saw unfailing and unfading _love _in those eyes.

There could be only one answer. 

"Yes." He whispered, tears silently betraying him. "Yes, of course I will!" John started to regain his voice. "I will most certainly marry you, Sherlock Holmes." He let Sherlock put the ring on his finger whilst beaming, then helped his fiancée up from the floor, wiping both their tears away with his sleeve.  
>"Remember I love you, Dr Holmes." Sherlock sighed happily.<br>John kissed Sherlock, pulling his hands tight around his waist. "Wait, why not Sherlock Watson?" John teased.  
>Sherlock silenced him with another kiss. "We're getting married…" He mused, ignoring the question. "Married."<br>John smiled. "Kids and Cottages married. Sitting on a porch step, watching our grandkids whilst we eat jam married."  
>Sherlock shook his head. "What is with you and jam?"<br>John giggled. "What's not to love? Its Jam!" John stood up on his tip toes and kissed Sherlock again.  
>"I think I'd take you over jam any day Doctor Holmes…." <p>

Happily, the two men walked hand in hand out of the morgue, looking at each other intently and joyfully as they practically skipped onto the street. They walked outside the hospital, passing the very spot where three years ago John took the pulse of the man he was now engaged to. John shook his head and smiled, seeing the relationship come full circle at last. He was the man who waited, finally getting what he longed for. John pulled on Sherlock's hand.  
>"Thank you Sherlock. For everything."<br>Sherlock smiled and kissed the doctor on the nose. "You don't have to thank me love… It's I who should be thanking you."  
>John looked and felt remarkably puzzled at this. Sherlock saw this, laughed, then continued.<br>"You fixed me. You loved me and you managed to fix me. You made me human. I'll always thank you for that." He smiled, then squeezed John's hand. 

Sherlock and John wandered back up the stairs to 221b, feeling intensely overjoyed and jubilant. The men walked in the door and together flopped onto the sofa. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, pulling him in tight and kissing his head as he sent a text to Mycroft. 

_Am now engaged to John. If not inconvenient, start picking out cakes. If inconvenient, do so anyway, it is your forte after all –SH._

John looked over Sherlock's shoulder and read the text. He giggled then attempted to chide Sherlock.  
>"You're gonna have to be nicer to him now you're married Sherlock…. He's also going to have to stop kidnapping me when he wants to talk." John mused.<br>Sherlock grinned. "I'm also going to have to be nicer to Lestrade aren't I…"  
>John smirked. "And Anderson too." At this Sherlock became the very portrait of shock.<br>"Anderson?" He gasped. "Do we have to actually invite Anderson to the wedding?"  
>John giggled. "Yes, so we can prove that you're not a sociopath and also so that you can make him jealous."<br>"Good grief John, I do love it when you plot with me… This is the reason why I'm marrying you." Sherlock giggled then evilly grinned as he pounced on John, tickling him until he squealed. 

"SAY YOU LOVE ME MORE THAN JAM, SAY IT JOHN HAMISH WATSON!"


	11. More Than Cake

**AN: Hello! **

**Here you all go guys, part one of fluff fluff fluff wedding!  
>Hope you enjoy, start spreading the news… He's married today….. :P (If you really like this, please don't hesitate to pass it along guys, I love you all :D)<strong>

**Dedicated to my lovely followers Aeroape and j0hnl0veshisdaddy once more (because they are AWESOME :D) from tumblr and of course the wonderful The Timelord's Consultant (who has written some amazing stuff recently that made me squee.)**

**Lastly, A mention/some other prize is up for grabs if you can send me what the easter egg is in this chapter :D**

**Love you all!**

**Jess.  
>(PS: The travelling meme is in play.)<strong>

Sherlock and John learnt many things in the few weeks that passed. Firstly, that Greg was a simply divine baker (something they both thought contributed to Mycroft's love of him) and secondly, that planning a wedding was actually quite easy when you had the enthusiastic help of Mycroft, Gregory and Molly. Mycroft met with John most days, trying to plan the wedding quickly. When asked why they were rushing, John would merely smile and say something along the lines of "Haven't we waited enough?" before burrowing his nose back into a magazine, trying to pick out suits for the groomsmen.

The night before the wedding, Sherlock and John were lying on the bed, hands intertwined and staring at the ceiling.  
>"John?" Sherlock probed.<br>"Yes love?"  
>"We're getting married tomorrow." Sherlock rolled over and propped himself up, facing John.<br>John beamed. "Yes, we are, aren't we? I'd totally forgotten." He teased, lovingly poking at Sherlock's nose.  
>"Mr and Dr Holmes. The Holmes'." Sherlock toyed with the sounds of the titles on his tongue, then smiled. "It's going to be a good day tomorrow, isn't it."<br>John nodded, leaning his head on Sherlock's hand. "With all the effort your brother has put in, it better be…"  
>"I think he just doesn't want another black eye…" Sherlock smirked.<br>John laughed then frowned for a moment. "Wait a minute Sherlock, aren't you meant to be at your bachelor party?"  
>Sherlock smiled. "I didn't plan one. Bachelor parties are meant to be a mourning of your soon to be fidelity, a final chance to do what you enjoy best. I happen to enjoy being with you, therefore there is nothing to mourn, more a celebration. And that, my love, is tomorrow."<br>John felt his heart swell slightly at this answer and he lightly kissed his fiancée on the cheek.  
>The two of them just stared into space for a while, John eventually falling asleep with his head on Sherlock's chest, Sherlock's hand gently stroking and patting his hair until he too fell asleep.<p>

John woke up the next morning in an empty bed, tucked in and energized for the day. He looked around for Sherlock and saw no evidence of his presence aside from a perfectly calligraphied note on the side of the bed. John rolled his eyes as he flicked open the card.

_I thought we should honour at least one wedding tradition. See you at the wedding –SH x _

John laughed slightly as he got up and began to get ready for his wedding. _His Wedding! _ It made his heart skip a beat thinking that by the end of the day he would actually be Dr John Holmes. He robotically went through the daily motions, his mind too joyous and nervous to consciously work. He was ready and dressed by 11, just in time for Greg to turn up. He bounded into the room with a gigantic smile on his face, looking so darn euphoric it made John want to punch him. Slightly.  
>"Hey Greg, you're looking stupidly…. Happy." John smirked. "And ridiculously photogenic, I feel as if I should have a camera already…"<br>Greg grinned. "I'm just happy for you! Brother-in-law!" He giggled. "You ready?"  
>John nodded, not feeling entirely ready at all but happy to go along with it, hoping for the best. He felt so overwhelmed with the whole thing but walked out of the flat despite it, smiling as he descended the steps.<p>

John stepped out of the car, not quite knowing how he ended up in the car or how he had arrived without him even noticing. The doctor timidly walked through the halls, Greg at his heels. He walked up to the great oak doors that were the last remaining barrier between him and marrying Sherlock and paused. He took several deep breaths as Greg peeked in; giving everyone the signal that John was on his way. He smiled, closed his eyes then walked through into the bright sunshine that was the chapel, leaving the shadows and darkness of the past behind him as he walked down the aisle towards the man who was responsible for the happiness and joy he was feeling now. Sherlock didn't need to know about the solar system. John's world truly did revolve around him. There was coos and smiles all around, the full rows bursting with merry faces as John finally reached Sherlock, both men with tears in their eyes.

Both men stared at each other, hands entwined, as the ceremony began, both only half paying attention, the other half directly focused on the man in front of them. Eventually the time for the vows came around and Sherlock (in true Sherlock style) began his vows. 

"My dearest John. I find it near impossible to express how I feel about you in normal words. You complete me. I can't imagine life without you, any time away from you isn't really living. John, I love you more than Mycroft loves cake. And that's a lot."  
>There was a slightly miffed "Oi!" from the front row to which Sherlock and John both smirked, then he continued. "John, I feel that you are truly part of me, a manifestation of everything I want to be. Kind, loyal, loving. Things that you have instilled in me with your patience and goodness. John, I promise to always get the milk for you. I promise to never leave you, I promise that to the very end of my days that I will never stop waking up amazed beside you, amazed at the fact that someone so utterly brilliant could love me back." Sherlock stared straight at John the whole time, trying ardently to express his sentiments in a way that could even just touch the tip of the clichéd iceberg at how much he loved John. His John.<p> 


	12. A Thousand Years

**AN: Hello!**

**Here it is guys, the final chapter *sniffs!* I'm so happy that you read this, each and every one of you who emailed in, marked this in your favourites or even reviewed, I love you all very much, you've made this a real pleasure to write.**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it, keep spreading it about and don't hesitate to contact me if you want anything *cough* sequels *cough* :P**

**Also, the easter egg was found by the lovely ****, who correctly guessed that the Easter egg was how 'ridiculously photogenic' Greg looked.**

**Goodbye Guys,**

**Love Jess. x**

**(PS: I own nothing of this, not Sherlock or any creation of the BBC, nor the Christina Perri song that I reference. Go listen to 'A Thousand Years,' it basically sums up this whole story.)**

Throughout Sherlock's vows John felt choked up, felt the tears threatening to spill out onto his shoes, felt every piece of his being feel elated and sing for joy. John beamed at Sherlock as he finished his vows then the doctor began his own.

"Sherlock. We met nearly five years ago. I limped into your life and you bounded into mine, not a care in the world. I felt so drawn to you and your energy, with you I felt like there was nothing at all wrong with the world. Pretty quickly I fell in love with you. I fell in love with the way you instantly know everything about a case by looking at a single corpse, I fell in love with your quirky nature, your violin playing at three in the morning, I fell in love with all those things that should annoy me, how you forget the milk, how you leave body parts in the same place as we keep food!"

After letting the chuckle from the congregation subside, he continued. "I fell in love with these things because no matter how annoying people think they should be, they are the things that make you _Sherlock._" John paused, seeing Sherlock's face melt in front of him. John took his hands in his own. "I love each and every part of you Sherlock Holmes, from your messy bed head curls down to your ticklish toes." He smiled back at the detective. "I loved you then, I love you now and I'll always love you."

Sherlock wiped away a tear from his cheek and heard the delightful words "I now pronounce you wed" announced. He stepped closer to John, smiling as he did so. "I love you John." He leant in and kissed his now husband lovingly, hearing the crowd clap and cheer as they shared their first marital kiss. The two men parted, staring at each other longingly but content to lose themselves in each other's eyes.

Mycroft Holmes was one of the throng of attendees at the wedding and looked upon his brother with a smile on his face. He turned to Greg and said "We all knew that John was the marrying kind. He's loyal, dedicated and loving. What we didn't know was that the person at the end of the aisle would make such a difference. The person at the end of the aisle was the difference between walking down the aisle or_limping down it__.__" The two men smiled at each other. "At least the right person was there for him. At least the right person was there for the both of them." Greg smiled. "I can't believe I'm now related to Sherlock!"  
>Mycroft grinned and began to file out of the building, out to the reception. <em>

The reception was a quiet affair, the newlyweds happy enough to just enjoy the company of their closest friends (and Anderson, John had insisted that he was invited.) Sherlock and John did the rounds, accepting the congratulations of their friends and family, trying to figure who was more confused out of when Harry gave Sherlock a rib-crushing hug or when Mummy Holmes gave John a rib crushing hug too. Enjoying the wedding rites, Sherlock didn't make any comments on the clichéd nature of their happiness, he just enjoyed it. They took turns messing cake in each other's faces, turning towards the flashes of many cameras hand in hand, until it was the time for their first dance.

Sherlock and John both worried about this, Mycroft had been in charge of most of the wedding, including the music choice. Sherlock gave his brother a worried look as the two men took to the dance floor in hushed silence. The first few bars of a heartfelt piano solo danced out of the speakers, provoking a smile from John.  
>"What song is this?" Sherlock pondered.<br>John sniffled slightly. "It's your song. I played this song when you came back, I played this song whenever I missed you, and it's perfect. Just like you are." Slowly they began to dance, both listening to the words of love and hope that caressed their ears.

_I have died everyday waiting for you  
>Darling don't be afraid I have loved you<br>For a thousand years  
>I'll love you for a thousand more<em>

_And all along I believed I would find you  
>Time has brought your heart to me<br>I have loved you for a thousand years  
>I'll love you for a thousand more.<em>

Both men with tears in their eyes looked at each other, knowing that they would always be together, knowing nothing could ever separate them again. With hope for the future set deeply in their hearts, they danced together, never letting each other go. Because never was there a tale of such love than of Sherlock and his Dr Watson.


End file.
